


Thousand touches (The Sherlock Holmes Murders)

by daisybelle



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 01:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6545323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisybelle/pseuds/daisybelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Contrary to popular belief Steve and Danny have always been friends without any thought of romance or romantic love. Until they have sex one night. Determined to keep their friendship intact they have to investigate a serial killer in Honolulu, who seems to get his inspiration from Sherlock Holmes stories. Definitely not a good time to be distracted by sudden revelations and feelings for their partner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Amazing cover art and header by the super talented skyearth85.

  
 

 

Later Danny wondered how it happened. For a moment they were wrestling over the remote control – a too common occurrence before they decided on a game to watch – and the next one Danny found himself lying on Steve. Only his fast reaction had prevented him from knocking heads with him, but now he was leaning over him, merely inches apart. He could still see the amused smile in Steve’s eyes, before the laughter slowly disappeared and was replaced by something darker, more basic. Danny watched the pupils below him dilating, bringing something in him to life that had been buried since almost forever and that he had denied far too long. Time stood still, as he stared down, their breaths mingling and he leaned closer.

 

The first touch was still hesitant; he carefully nipped Steve’s upper lip, a short taste, hints of pizza and Steve, almost too intense. The next kiss was already more forceful, more assured. Steve was the first one to introduce tongue, and just as Danny was about to complain about it, about Steve’s impatience, how typical; he felt Steve’s hand in his hair, almost painfully grabbing it as he pushed them even closer together. Teeth met and for a moment everything was wrong until Steve guided his head to the side and suddenly it was perfect. Tongues met and stroked, broken moans interrupted labored breathing when pulled apart for the tiniest moments.

 

With his remaining brain function Danny realized that he didn’t need his arm to support him anymore, he could use it for something much more interesting. Like getting his hands on Steve’s skin. He pushed Steve’s shirt upwards, touching those muscles that he had seen so, so many times, had even touched but only in worry, to check on wounds, to bind them. It seemed that his hunger for more skin contact was met with Steve’s full approval. He tore his mouth apart and managed with some elaborated wiggling moves to get out of his shirt. Danny strongly suspected some Navy-ninja-schooling behind it, but for the first time he fully appreciated his partner’s military education. When Steve pulled his shirt out of his trousers, he willingly raised his arms before meeting Steve in another fiery kiss.

 

Danny took the chance to trail kisses from Steve’s mouth down his jaw, relishing in the slight scratch of beard growth, a pleasure almost forgotten since his experimental youth and Rachel. He slowly descended down Steve’s neck, worrying the spot for a few moments where Steve’s breath had hitched deliciously until he made his way down. To his delight he discovered that Steve’s nipples were pretty sensitive and when he looked up to gauge Steve’s reaction, the slight flush and the burning in his eyes were enough motivation to continue his exploration. Slowly he discovered more and more delicious skin, tasting the hint of salt and Steve on his way down, enthralled by the shiver when he stabbed his tongue in Steve’s navel or at the bites that he left on the hipbones.

 

He deliberately pressed his knuckle down the length of Steve’s zipper, enjoying the way Steve squirmed under him, but even more that he was still in control, that the control freak of his partner hadn’t taken over. Even as Danny so, so slowly opened Steve’s pants, relishing at the sound of Steve’s stuttered breaths, but even more at Steve’s patience. Steve had gone commando under his pants and that was knowledge Danny didn’t know how he could live with in the future. But for the moment he just enjoyed the benefits of immediate access.

 

He stroked Steve’s cock two, three times and would have said something about the hardness in his hand if he weren’t as hard himself. A broken ‘Danny’ let him look up and at the wrecked look on Steve’s face he couldn’t help but smile. Slowly he lowered himself down again, taking the head of Steve’s cock between his lips, licking carefully over the slit and taking a first taste. It had been awhile since he had been with a man, but he remembered how much he had enjoyed this. The heavy weight on his tongue, the salty taste, the musk.

 

Having Steve’s cock in his mouth was even better than his memories and he took him in as far as he dared, sliding his tongue alongside the vein. Encouraged by the moan, he started sliding up and down in earnest, his lips a tight ring along Steve’s shaft and with light suction. With his hands he kept Steve still, while he added his tongue and a hint of teeth to the mix, practically drooling over the precum he could taste on his tongue.

 

He didn’t know how long it took for Steve to stop him. When Danny opened his mouth to ask, Steve panted.

 

“Not like this … bedroom.”

 

Danny’s immediate protests were overridden by just the idea of Steve spread out in front of him. He could easily picture him illuminated by moon light and writhing beneath him. Danny managed to stand up on shaky knees, holding his hand out. Now that he was no longer concentrating on Steve and Steve’s cock, he became almost painfully aware of his own arousal. Steve apparently sensed this and pressed his palm against it, before pulling Danny in a kiss. Still kissing him, Steve walked him to the stairs and Danny nearly fell when his feet suddenly met the first step. Only Steve’s hand on his back kept him up.

 

It would probably have been easier if he had stopped kissing Steve, but he found that was impossible. Every time he pulled away, he saw Steve’s swollen mouth and he needed to taste it again. Immediately. As often as possible. Then Steve finally managed to open his pants, and Danny was again in danger of falling, but the need to award Steve for his thoughtfulness was greater. Nevertheless he was relieved when they finally reached Steve’s bedroom door and his underpants were shoved down. His cock sprang free, but he had no time to appreciate it, since now he had his arms full of Steve. Full of naked and deliciously hard Steve.

 

Somehow they made it to the bed, Danny was a bit fuzzy on the details, but instead he remembered how good it felt to have Steve lying on him, holding him, before he became the subject of a very detail-oriented exploration. He couldn’t remember having this many erogenous zones, but Steve unerringly found them all. When Steve took his cock in his mouth, Danny couldn’t help but arch from the bed to get closer to the wet heat. Of course Steve would have no gag reflex.

 

He had lost all sense of time but it seemed to him that he came embarrassingly fast close to the edge and he realized that he didn’t want to come like that. So he mirrored Steve’s action from before, pulling him up and kissing Steve’s questioning look away.

 

“Together,” he murmured before he could taste himself on Steve’s tongue.

 

He reached down to both their cocks, but Steve was already a step ahead, he held their cocks together, stroking them both at the same time. The spit and the precum were enough lubricant to just give the right amount of friction and Danny couldn’t keep up with the kisses, he had to tear his mouth away, needed to breath and just claimed Steve’s exhalations for his. He didn’t know which one of them was moaning, but he managed to keep his eyes open, staring into Steve’s when he fell over the edge, feeling Steve jerking against him. In this moment it seemed as if it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. Steve lowered his head on Danny’s forehead, their heavy panting mixing.

 

It took awhile to come back to his senses. When Danny did, he became aware how heavy Steve’s body on his felt, but he was still too sated to complain about it. Although it seemed that somehow Steve had developed telepathic capabilities because he rolled off Danny and even got up to go to the bathroom. He came back with a towel and cleaned them both as good as possible. Then he lay next to Danny and pulled him in his arms. Danny went willingly and it was with Steve’s steady heartbeat in his ear that he fell asleep.

 


	2. Chapter 2

_The body was heavy and he always winced when it bumped against the floor. But it had to be done. It had to be done right._

_He had been so excited when he had read the name. She wanted to visit him. He had barely slept the night before, had been clumsy the whole day until her time had come. She hadn’t looked like he expected, but people rarely did. He had started talking to her, but she had been very monosyllabic, barely uttering more than a few words._

_And then he mentioned the name. And she? She had said that she hated it._

_How could she?_

_How did she dare?_

_He was the greatest, the only one. Nobody would ever reach him._

_Especially not her. She didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve the name._

_She was nothing, nothing whatsoever._

_Nothing, nothing, nothing._

_The word had echoed in his head when he had pushed her head against the black marble._

_Again and again and again._

_Until she said nothing more and the words in his head had stopped screaming._

_Her blood had been a stark contrast to her white face, but it almost disappeared on the black stone. He had grabbed the shower head and held it over her head for a while, trying to wash away the offending color. Until he lowered it, put it over her mouth and her nose. He had an idea, a brilliant one._

_He had carried the body out through the back door. It had been dark already and his car had been parked only a few steps next to the door. She had fit right into the trunk of his car._

_And now he was here, climbing the trail to the waterfalls. It would be beautiful. As if HE had planned it._

_The view from above was as he remembered it. He knew he could see over the trees, see the outcasts and lights of Honolulu, but it had never interested him. Instead he stared down into the pond, imagining an abyss somewhere in Switzerland, following the cascades with his eyes and appreciating the stark contrast between the foam and the dark water._

_It took him a moment to arrange the body right, to get her standing right in front of him. He had to hold her and her head was hanging down, but it would have to do. He took his time, wanted to imprint the picture in front of him forever in his brain. For a moment he just felt the rush of power surge through him and then he pushed her forward and watched her body falling down._

 

* * *

 

Chin loved this time of the day. Sometimes, like today, he would use it to take out his bike and ride the more scenic route to the office. The roads were usually empty, so that he could risk a glance to the ocean. Some days he could see the waves building up, and then he would give Kono a heads-up at the earliest possibility. But today the sea was still, just a glistening mirror in the sun.

 

He followed the curves of the highway, smiling slightly at the memory when he had driven this road for the first time, the little spikes of adrenaline when he had come close to the edge, fully aware that the guard rail wouldn’t save him from tumbling down the cliffs. Today he got his kicks elsewhere.

 

Just when he wondered if he should stop for a moment to drink some of the coffee he had brewed at home, he noticed them. Two young wanderers more sliding than running out of the woods. Chin instantly identified them as tourists, but what concerned him more was the look of terror on their faces as he stopped his bike, parking it out of the way for the following traffic. He crossed the street to get to them and saw the instant relief on their faces when he introduced himself as a cop.

 

“There is …,” the woman swallowed, “there is a dead woman in the water.”

 

Chin mentally followed their trail. If he remembered right, there should be a waterfall with a small pond somewhere near.

 

“Can you show me the way?”

 

It was at least a 15 minute walk until they reached their destination. The tourists had wanted to stay back in the forest, when the waterfall came in sight, so Chin took the last steps alone. He had been here as a small boy, it always looked like a magical place. The rushing of the water drowned out almost every other sound the nearer he came, the pond in contrast completely still.

 

Only the floating body of a woman disturbed the perfect picture.

 

* * *

 

The sun was on the wrong side. That was Danny’s first thought. Then he heard his phone ringing, recognized Steve answering his, before he opened his eyes.

 

And found himself in Steve’s bedroom. For a moment he was confused. He had slept in Steve’s bedroom before – after their first return from Colombia, and after his second. When he received the news about Charlie. Always emotionally drained and maybe too drunk to drive back to his place. But right now, something was different.

 

He grabbed his phone, blearily recognized Kono’s voice asking him to a crime scene, and grunted his confirmation before he disconnected.

 

Only when his eyes met Steve’s over the wide expanse of the bed, he realized what was different.

 

They were both naked.

 

Steve’s body was littered with little bruises that looked like bite marks. And he could feel heat rising him, wanting to explore them, tasting … He closed his eyes for a second and did a mental review of his own body. He was sore and his muscles ached, ached in a certain way they hadn’t in a long time. His eyes flew open.

 

If the sudden shock on Steve’s face was any indication he had come to the same conclusion. They had sex last night. Fragments of memories made their way in Danny’s consciousness, and he closed his eyes again, not ready to deal with the mental images and the very real naked Steve in front of him. Just there to be touched.

 

“I’ll be in the bathroom,” he heard Steve saying. His voice sounded odd and when Danny opened his eyes again he thought he saw a hint of hurt on Steve’s face. 

 

“I’ll go downstairs,” he managed. Steve just nodded and disappeared in the ensuite.

 

Danny collected his clothes, followed a reverse trail of his and Steve’s underwear (only his own), socks, pants and shirts down the stairs. He started coffee and took his spare clothes out of the cupboard, before he took a shower in the little bathroom that Steve usually used after his morning swims.

 

Alone under the shower he allowed the memories of last night to resurface. Hot, passionate kisses and intense pleasure. He groaned as his cock reacted to the pictures his mind provided. For a moment he hesitated, but then he purposefully turned on the cold water.

 

A few minutes later he emerged to the kitchen, finding Steve already distributing coffee in two mugs and adding just the right amount of milk to his. Although he was wide awake, he grabbed his coffee, needed to delay the inevitable a little longer. He burnt his tongue in his haste.

 

“We need to talk.” It was Steve who broke the silence.

 

Danny looked at him.

 

“I know.” He hesitated for a moment. “In the car?”

 

* * *

 

The first minutes of the car ride were filled with uncomfortable silence. More than once their eyes met, before Steve once again was the first one speaking.

 

“Last night …,” he started. “It was good, … but it wasn’t right. We shouldn’t …,“ he interrupted himself again and Danny took his chance.

 

“We are friends.”

 

“Yes,” Steve looked at him thankfully. “We are friends, ohana. And I don’t want to lose it.”

 

“Me too. I couldn’t imagine my life without you putting it at risk,” he tried to joke and was relieved at the little smile he saw on Steve’s face.

 

“So, last night was last night, but it doesn’t change anything?”

 

“Yes,” Danny confirmed and when Steve took his hand to squeeze it, he squeezed back and it almost felt like a vow.

 

They both went silent after that, until Steve put on the radio and their usual argument about the right taste in music erupted. Danny was relieved and somewhat stunned how utterly normal it felt. And how much he wanted to take back Steve’s hand.

 

* * *

 

Even in the early days, when Danny had regarded Hawaii as nothing more than a pineapple infested hellhole, he was at least on some level aware that Hawaii offered more beauty in nature than he would ever see in Jersey. The only problem: As a kid from urban Jersey, he detested nature by default. As it happened so often since he was with 5-0, their crime scene could also double as perfect location for a tourism video. A little secluded pond, surrounded by unnamable trees and the obligatory waterfall. It was picture perfect. Or rather it would be if it weren’t for the body and the group of cops around it.

 

He followed Steve as they made their way to Chin who talked to a couple of tourists, until HPD led them away.

 

“Why are we here?”

 

“The couple looked for a romantic get-away, wanted to spend the day hiking, and instead found the body of the woman. When they ran out of the forest to get help, they found me,” Chin added with a small smile, before he got serious again.

 

“The body was fully clothed in the water. No ID on the vic, no belongings around the pond – I’d say she was dumped here. Not a good place to hide a body, so either someone didn’t care or someone wanted her to be found. I’ve send HPD out to look for any of her belongings and if they see something that could be our primary crime scene.”

 

“What about up there?” Steve pointed up the falls.

 

“I’m not sure if there is a way up there.”

 

“Let’s have a look.”

 

Danny shot his partner an annoyed glare. Of course, he wanted to take a look. If there wasn’t a chance to do something at least a bit dangerous, he wouldn’t be happy. Danny really didn’t look forward to ruining his clothes by climbing up rocks.

 

It was easier than expected, but he still managed to tear a hole in his shirt. Mainly because he had been distracted by watching Steve climbing up instead of his own steps. So, when he walked right into Steve he used the chance to complain.

 

“Why are you stopping? I hate when people do this. They always stop at the landing of the stairs or right in front of doors. Why do people that? And even more importantly why are you doing that?”

 

“Footprints,” Steve just answered. And when Danny looked around his nicely toned arms (that he wasn’t supposed to notice), he saw indeed a series of footprints in the mud next to waterfall. He also saw something that looked like a perfectly good path leading from the back of the rock to this spot.

 

“Primary crime scene or dumping spot?” He asked Steve who had already crouched down to investigate the prints.

 

“Only one set of shoes, doesn’t look like a struggle. I’d say dumping spot. Let’s call forensics.”

 

After instructions for the technicians they left them to do their job, and to Danny’s relief taking the path down they made their way to Dr. Shaw who was kneeling by the body.

 

“What can you tell us?”

 

“It would estimate that she is about 12 to 24 hours dead, maybe I can get more details after the autopsy. COD seems to be drowning, but there is also a large head wound.”

 

She carefully turned the head to show them.

 

“Could have happened when she was dropped,” Chin argued.

 

“No, I don’t think so. There is too much blood. I think she was unconscious, but maybe the murderer thought she was already dead. I’m taking samples of the pond.”

 

“So how is it working without Max’ supervision?” Danny asked.

 

“It’s a bit more stressful, since people still keep dying despite him being on a conference, but I manage. I will call you when I got something.”

 

She waved them good bye before she left with the body.

 

* * *

 

“We have a name for the vic, boss,” Kono announced as she came to the data table. With a few commands she brought up a picture of their victim and a copy of her passport as well as some travel information.

 

“This is Jane Moriarty, age 27. She was on vacation with two friends, Marisa Thomas and Halle Keeler. Yesterday Marisa and Halle took a helicopter tour around the island, but Jane apparently gets sick in helicopters, that’s why she wanted to go shopping and to get her hair done at C. Riker’s.”

 

“C. Riker’s?”

 

“C. Riker or better Christian Riker is a member of the Riker family. They own the Old Grand Hotel, one of the richest families on the island. But Christian didn’t join the family business, instead he went to Hollywood and made a name for himself as the one who styles the movie stars. He has several shops on the mainland and one in the Old Grand,” Kono explained.

 

“How do you know so much about him?” Danny wondered.

 

Chin laughed. “Kono lets nobody else do her hair than him.”

 

“Do you know what salt water does to your hair? A surfer girl needs any help she can get.”

 

“Okay, then you can ask him if he has seen our victim.”

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day was just plain legwork. That kind of simple police work that was a welcome distraction from their adrenaline fueled other days on a good day or the most tedious thing on earth, where they had to turn stubbornly every stone to find something. Danny was usually the one with the most patience for those days, but today it took too much effort to concentrate on the fact that they had a dead girl on their hands. And waiting for the credit card statements or the list of last phone calls gave him way too much time to think about last night.

 

More than once he caught himself watching Steve; a little hand wave reminding him of the soft calluses on Steve’s fingers caressing his skin. The way he tilted his head made Danny wanting to lick over the exposed pulse point; the way his mouth moved let him shiver at the memory of how those lips moved across his stomach. But even worse, he started wondering. If Steve had the same problem, if he was the only one affected. He couldn’t detect something strange about Steve, but if Chin’s strange looks were any indication, he was behaving weird.

 

Trying to distract himself, he grabbed a coffee and offered “Long night” as explanation. Chin seemed to accept that, but nevertheless Danny was relieved that they finally received the credit card data. Retracing their victim’s last steps by questioning everyone appearing on the statement was at least a way out of the office and Steve’s distracting vicinity. He was lucky, Steve decided that he and Grover would question the grieving friends for any enemies, while he and Chin would meet Kono to visit the stores and hopefully find something on their surveillance.

 

They found nothing.

 

Kono confirmed that their victim hadn’t been at her hair appointment, none of the store employees had noticed anything unusual, the first glances on the surveillance material seemed to point in the same direction. When they returned to the office, Danny felt mentally exhausted, and not only because he had missed his partner the whole time while he was driving with Chin.

 

He wasn’t even surprised to find his heart beating a bit faster at Steve expecting them back. He was even less surprised when they learned the news from the autopsy and lab. The water in Jane Moriarty’s lungs had been tap water. And although they found some traces of black marble in her wound, this soon proved to be another dead end. Apparently black marble was the latest trend for bathrooms and most of the major hotel chains as well as quite a few homeowners had it installed.

 

Danny really couldn’t remember the last time a case had him frustrated so early on.

 


	3. Chapter 3

_He folded the blanket carefully and stowed it in his bag. A last look over the scene told him that everything looked like he wanted it. He smiled and took off his gloves, rolling them into a small ball before he put them in the bag, too. It was heavy and he felt the plastic slightly cutting in his skin, but needs must. He couldn’t leave evidence behind, what would the greatest think about him?_

_The wooden block which had the perfect shape that he wanted, especially when the blanket was draped around it, the gloves. And of course the paperwork that had lured the man on this roof. Greed, one of the major reasons for murder. Not quite in the way this had played out, but close enough. Besides the motive didn’t matter. Not to him at least. Other things were more important._

_Things that he had just learned about himself. He could play in one league with greatest. He just committed his second murder and it was easier than he had imagined it. Everything had gone according to plan, none of his back-up plans were needed._

_Instead he could still feel it: The power._

_The rush of adrenaline._

_The satisfaction._

_He wondered what the greatest would say._

 

* * *

 

Danny was in a bad mood. Not only did he dream about the night with Steve and woke up much too early, his heart filled with the kind of longing he only remembered from his first days with Rachel, but Steve’s call had meant that he had to cut short his breakfast to be ready when Steve picked him up. Which meant no coffee. His complaints about the lack of caffeine in his blood were met with the amused half-smile that Steve always showed. It didn’t help with his mood, that he almost got lost in it, wanted to touch it, taste it. He blamed his lack of coffee for those urges and spent the rest of the ride staring studiously ahead on the road.  

 

They arrived at a parking deck in the outskirts of Honolulu. From the outside it looked like the typical parking deck that could be found anywhere in the US, but Danny knew from his first weeks at HPD that it was usually most frequented at night, when the surrounding industrial complexes were closed for the day and the levels were empty. Wannabe race drivers used the empty space and the lack of surveillance as their own personal race course. The numerous tire tracks on the upper level proved that nothing had changed in this regard in the last years.

 

Grover greeted them when they approached the crime scene. Danny could see a man sitting lifelessly in an open convertible, Dr. Shaw already leaning over him. His experience told him that the dark spot at the back of his head was blood.

 

“What have we got?” Steve asked.

 

“Male victim, looks like blunt force trauma, no likely weapon near the car, but HPD looks for it. No wallet or ID on the vic, but the keys are in the ignition. HPD has already run the license plate, came back as a rental. The rental firm isn’t open yet.”

 

“So not necessarily a robbery gone wrong but something personal?”

 

“Looks like it to me.”

 

Danny went to the car. He preferred to get his own impression of the crime scene. He noted the drops of blood surrounding the car.

 

“He was definitely murdered here.”

 

“Yeah,” Grover agreed. “Sure looks like it.”

 

“So what was he doing here? It’s an odd place for a meeting point. And he doesn’t look like one of those Wannabe-Andrettis,” Danny commented.

 

“It’s a good place for the murderer. With all those tire tracks there is practically no chance we will ever find thr murderer’s car,” replied Grover.

 

“What about the cameras?” That was Steve observing the whole area.

 

Danny sighed. “Those are usually the first to be destroyed. And it takes ages until they are replaced. I wouldn’t be surprised if they are just fake ones to keep up appearances.”

 

“So the crime scene basically gives us nothing.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Let’s hope that Dr. Shaw finds something more.”

 

* * *

 

They had indeed found nothing remotely usable on the parking deck besides tire traces of practically every kind of tire sold on the market. And Danny had been right, the cameras hadn’t recorded anything. He just hoped that the autopsy at least provided some starting point.

 

“What have you got, Dr. Shaw?”

 

“Victim’s name is John Straker. We could identify him with his dental scheme, once Chin gave us a name to the rental car. He was killed by blunt force trauma,” Dr. Shaw indicated the head wound, “with an unknown object. What’s interesting about it that we found horse hair and fibers in his wound.”

 

“Horse hair?” Steve’s voice mirrored Danny’s surprise.

 

“Yes, horse hair. I’ve sent it to the lab,” Dr. Shaw confirmed.

 

“He was found on a parking deck.”

 

“I know that, nevertheless horse hair,” Dr. Shaw repeated

 

“Look at the bright side, at least something that might be a starting point. Maybe he did one of those horse riding tours,” Danny offered.

 

“Maybe,” Steve agreed doubtfully. Danny didn’t like to admit it, but Steve’s skepticism was justified. Straker looked exactly like the kind of tourist that would spend his complete vacation time on the beach and later had skin cancer to prove it. He couldn’t imagine the man sitting on a horse, but he was long enough a cop not to take anything at face value.

 

“So let’s visit some horse farms.”

 

* * *

 

It had seemed such a good idea to visit the horse farms and ask if they knew something about John Straker, especially with not much else coming from the crime scene. Danny had even argued that they could use this as a chance to get a new perspective, clearing their thoughts since they had right now two unsolved cases at their hand with practically nothing to work with. His secret hope that he also might clear his head of his straying thoughts was practically evaporated as soon as he ended  with Steve in a car.

 

But since this was Danny’s life now, they hadn’t found anything. Nobody on those farms remembered Straker; the whole day had been an exercise in frustration. And it seemed that his evening would continue this theme since he was now sitting in front of Steve’s house. Steve had already left the car and Danny watched his way to the porch. He could easily imagine how the evening would continue; they had done this much too often. Depending on the time and Steve’s frustration level, Steve would take a swim in the ocean, while Danny was responsible for the barbecue.

 

Later, Steve would come out of the water, his swim trunks dangerously low, water glittering on his chest, accentuating the muscles. He would take the towel that he had left on the lanai and dry his face. Danny could practically see his smile, his eyes this strange shade that showed his contentness with the world. Danny would step closer, not able to resist a wet, smiling Steve. He could smell the ocean tinted with Steve’s unique smell.

 

Danny licked his lips and knew he wouldn’t fight against tasting Steve, exploring whether Steve’s taste would be stronger in his mouth. Although he knew it would be, the same way he knew how Steve would response, how Steve’s tongue in his mouth would feel or Steve’s hands on his body. Slightly cool, maybe still slightly damp, leaving wet spots on his shirt. Arousal would turn the kiss heated and …

 

“Danny, are you coming?”

 

For a moment Danny looked uncomprehending at Steve who was back at the car, looking at him through the window. It took Danny a moment to gather his thoughts, still too caught up in arousal and his fantasy. Then he blinked and stared helplessly at the man in front of him, taking in the beautiful face and the signs of worry. He wanted to kiss the worry away, and with a groan Danny finally realized where his thoughts had strayed. Where they had strayed all day.

 

“I don’t think so,” he managed, his voice cracking.

 

Steve looked as if he was about to protest, his mouth already opened. But then his gaze turned sharper, studying Danny’s face. He didn’t know what Steve saw, but he could see the moment when Steve understood. It showed on his face. Understanding and something else, something Danny didn’t want to analyze, was too afraid to analyze. Deliberately Steve took a step back from Danny’s car.

 

“Yes, maybe not,” Steve’s voice was hoarse.

 

“Another time,” offered Danny weakly and would have been relieved to see Steve smiling in acknowledgement. But it was tainted with pain and much more guarded than Steve had smiled in a long time, but Danny took what he could get.

 

“See you tomorrow,” he said as he climbed in the driver’s seat and started the car again.

 

“Tomorrow,” Danny could read Steve’s answer on his lips when he drove away.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

_This was important._

_Really important._

_He had to do it right. This was the next level of planning._

_With a critical eye he looked over the scene, placed an arm more to the left, pulled a corner of the bed sheet straight._

_It had taken him a long time to find the right setting, the right room. Something that couldn’t be traced back to him, but something that also had the right atmosphere._

_Heavy curtains. Old furniture, but not too worn._

_The art prints on the wall had been the only thing not fitting. He had stored them away in the cupboard._

_No carpets. Carpets would ruin the effect._

_No tiles. It had to be floorboards. It had to be perfect._

_He plucked up one hair that had fallen to the ground, idly wondering if it was his. He wouldn’t take the risk._

_He pushed his finger in the red color, the sensation unpleasant even through the gloves. Holding one hand under his dripping finger he finally began to write on the floor._

 

* * *

 

Danny stared at the two files on his desk. It was easier than staring through the glass walls at Steve, especially with the events of last night still on his mind. He had spent long hours trying to get his mind back on track, to the days before he knew how Steve tasted, how he sounded, how he made love. He didn’t succeed. Instead he spent too much time jerking off to memories and fantasies of Steve.

 

When he realized that his mind had wandered again, he opened both files in front of him.

 

Jane Moriarty and John Straker.

 

Both dead and in both cases their investigations were at a point which looked like a dead end.

 

Danny didn’t like dead ends very much, it always felt as if he had failed. He knew that as a police officer you wouldn’t solve every case, but he still hated the fact that two apparently pretty simple murder cases should be on Hawaii 5-0’s unsolved list.

 

But they had nothing. No known enemies – and he was already using the word very loosely –, friends and families had watertight alibis. So far they hadn’t recovered anything remotely interesting about those two people. Only their deaths were interesting. In both cases the victims were hit on the head with an unknown object.

 

Something was nagging in the back of his mind, but before he could concentrate on it, Steve stormed into his office.

 

“Duke just called. We’ve got a new case.”

 

“A new case? We still got two unsolved ones?” Danny protested.

 

Steve shrugged. “Yeah, but Max insisted.”  

 

* * *

 

The crime scene was in a hotel room. It was none of the fancier ones, more verging on motel than hotel, but the rooms seemed well enough. They were greeted by Max kneeling next to the victim on the floor. The dead man, about 40 was Danny’s estimation, still seemed to be in pain, his face frozen in a horrified mask. From whatever he had died, it hadn’t been peaceful. But he had still managed to leave a message. Next to his right hand, written in something that looked like blood, was one word.

 

R A C H E

 

“Max, welcome back. How was the mainland?”

 

“Thank you, Commander. It was very insightful. But that’s not why I called you today.”

 

“So, why did you call us?” Steve prompted.

 

“Mr. Drebber here was apparently poisoned after receiving a blow to his head, but more interesting is the message next to his hand.”

 

“Rache – it’s German for revenge,” Steve explained.

 

“Maybe it stands for Rachel and he died before he could finish?” Danny suggested. He had written the name often enough not to see this immediately.

 

“Actually, it could be both,” Max said. “That’s why I called you.”

 

“So, could you please explain?” Danny heard the slight impatience in his own voice and offered an apologetic smile.

 

A small nod before Max answered. “Certainly. Dr. Shaw provided me with all the details of the investigations that she assisted with while I was away and I noticed something regarding the murders of Jane Moriarty and John Straker. It was first a suspicion, but now I’m quite sure.”

 

“So what is it?” Danny really liked Max, but he certainly wished that he wouldn’t always taking his time.

 

“It seems that all those murders are inspired by the greatest invention of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.”

 

“Sherlock Holmes? How?” Steve asked. Danny could see the sudden alarm in his posture.

 

Max nodded appreciatively.

 

“If you are familiar with the oeuvre of Sherlock Holmes, you will know that James Moriarty – the most dangerous archenemy of our great detective died at the Reichenbach Falls in Switzerland after a fight for live and death with Sherlock Holmes. And Ms. Moriarty was found after apparently being thrown down a waterfall.”

 

“Could be coincidence?” Steve offered.

 

“That’s what I thought at first. But the murder of Mr. Straker resembles the death his namesake in the ‘Silverblaze’ who was killed by the horse he was attempting mutilate so that it wouldn’t win a race.” – “The horse hair,” Danny injected. – “And even more important,” Max continued, “this looks like an impromptu stage of Sherlock Holmes’s and Dr. Watson’s first case together, ‘A study in scarlet’.”

 

“How so?”

 

“In that that their murderer gave the victims poison. In one case, he left a bloody message – ‘Rache’ meaning revenge in the original stories. However, one of the latest reinterpretations by the BBC chooses to use it as the unfinished name Rachel. So that’s why I think it could be both.”

 

“And if it’s just used as a prop to make the scene look like a Sherlock Holmes murder, it won’t help us in any way,” Danny concluded.

 

“That would be correct.”

 

“Great,” Steve sighed. “So we might have a serial killer at our hands who is a fan of the greatest fictional detective.”

 

“It appears so,” Max nodded. “However, Commander, I think I should tell you that not all of Sherlock Holmes’ cases ended in murder. He investigated everything.”

 

“It may still be coincidence,” Danny said. He didn’t think this was the case, he didn’t want to be contradictory, but he wanted to keep their minds open for other possibilities. Steve looked at him for a moment.

 

“Okay, we will investigate this case separately, look in Mr. Drebber’s past if there is any Rachel or a motive for revenge, but we will also cross check with other unsolved cases whether there are more Sherlock Holmes copies.”

 

* * *

 

The alarm on his phone broke Danny’s concentration. It was time for his weekly visit with Charlie. He stopped the alarm, looking guiltily at the mountain of files on his desk. They were comparing every open HPD case with Sherlock Holmes cases, tedious was almost too nice to describe it. He looked through the windows of his office and saw the other also pouring over files. He didn’t want to miss his date with his son, but he also didn’t like the thought of wandering out here, knowing pretty well, that the others would probably finish those files for him.

 

His phone interrupted his internal debate. It was Steve. Danny looked to Steve’s office where Steve gestured at him to pick up his phone.

 

“You need to go,” explained Steve without any preamble.

 

“I have still a million files to go through, there is no way ...,” Danny tried to protest but Steve interrupted him.

 

“It’s your day with your son. Take your time. I know it is important for both of you. If we need you we will call you, but we are enough people. If we find anything, I promise I will call you.”

 

Danny still hesitated. “Go, that’s an order.”

 

“I’m not one of your army buddies.” Danny was also not good at taking orders.

 

“Navy, Danny. How often do I need to tell you that I was in the Navy?”

 

He could hear the amusement hidden beneath the protest and looked up the catch the smile on Steve’s face.

 

“Just go,” he heard Steve sigh. “Say hello to Charlie and Grace from me.”

 

“Okay,” Danny finally agreed, already shutting down his pc.

 

He grabbed his keys and waved at Kono and Chin before he left the office.

 

* * *

 

The screen in front of them was filled with the life of Mr. Drebber, an old yearbook, his company’s homepage where every employee was listed with a photo, his facebook account, his university class and his teammates from his bowling club. If a woman named Rachel had ever been important to him, Danny didn’t think they would find her in those pieces of Drebber’s life. And his instinct told him that Max was probably right.

 

A conviction that became more pronounced when Kono came out of her office.

 

“Guys,” she started, “I’ve just spoken to Jane Moriarty’s friends. They said she hated her name and hated anything to do with Sherlock Holmes. So if our murderer is a Holmes fanatic and talked to her about it, her reaction would not have been nice.”

 

“So, it’s the name that set everything off?” Steve asked.

 

“Maybe?”

 

“But where did this person find her? And even knew her name? Or picked up any of his other victims?”


	5. Chapter 5

_He wiped his sweat away with a tissue, carefully folding it afterwards and putting it in his waste bag. It was still early but he could already feel the promise of heat for the day. And wearing gloves and a protection suit didn’t help, he felt sweat running down his spine. But it was necessary._

_Otherwise it would be too easy._

_No one became the greatest by taking the easy way._

_And some things were important to maintain._

_He walked back into the room._

_Everything was as he had imagined it so often. He wondered if he should have added more details. He had been tempted to buy some props, but it would have been a mistake._

_His first._

_He didn’t want to be caught because of decoration, not when something else should be the focus._

_As it was now._

_He moved the chair with the body carefully a few inches, so that the light would hit it in the right angle. At least he hoped it would – he wouldn’t be here for the discovery. But he always had a very keen fantasy._

_As always the door closed noiselessly._

_Now he had to wait. It shouldn’t be long, if everything went according to plan just a few more minutes. And why wouldn’t it. Everything else had. Three perfect murders. Now it would be number four._

_Hidden in the shadows he stared outside, feeling the slight breeze through the open window cooling his damp skin._

_Now!_

_Now was the right time._

_He lit the match and let it drop._

_It was now out of his hands._

 

* * *

 

They were greeted by Chin and one Mr. Reynolds who identified himself as the head of the local firemen.

 

“This is the Redmond estate,” Chin started his explanation. “The Redmonds were one of the richest families in Hawaii, but a few years ago they sold the estate to a private investor who tried unsuccessfully to turn it into a museum. Since then the house is mostly empty, but every second Saturday there are tours through the house. The first group arrived at 9.30 am and they saw smoke coming out of one of the windows, so they immediately called 911.”

 

Officer Reynolds took over. “When we arrived, it looked pretty bad. There was a lot of smoke, but luckily there was just a small fire in one of the higher level galleries. It had only affected one wall, to be on the safe side we tore it down and that’s when we found the body.”

 

Slowly they walked to the house and Danny could still smell the smoke in the air. Chin led them straight to the stairs and continued his explanation.

 

“The body was apparently in a secret passage of the house, the only entry we could find until now was the wall that they opened to check for fire and embers. The tour guide knew nothing about it and she said that she worked for the Redmonds before they moved. And, what’s even more interesting, it looked as if somebody had moved everything of value to the other floors,” at this Chin pointed to some furniture that looked out of place, “so the actual damage is pretty minor.”

 

“Somebody just wanted our attention,” Steve summarized, stepping over some water puddles to get a better look at the body. Max was already examining it, waving at them. There was practically no room for anybody else in the small corridor where the body was sitting so they remained outside.

 

“Yes, that’s what I thought. So I called Max.”

 

“And what did he say?”

 

“Well, I guess you won’t be surprised if I tell you that it reminded him of a Sherlock Holmes story.”

 

“You would be right.”

 

“It’s the case of the Norwood builder,” Max offered. “Only in the original story nobody dies, this part was changed later in the so-called Granada series. Mr. Oldacre tries to take revenge on his former fiancé who had left him by faking his own murder and blaming her son for it. He hid himself in a secret passage that he had built in his house.”

 

It probably said something about Danny’s life that this wasn’t even the craziest thing he had heard people doing in the name of revenge.

 

“So you said the tour guide didn’t know about the secret passage?”

 

“No, but someone surely did,” Chin said. “My guess is that this section is as old as the rest of the house.”

 

“They could they have found it by accident?”

 

“Maybe,” Chin shrugged, “from what I’ve seen there are some stairs, maybe there is another entrance outside the house.”

 

“Let’s have a look and then we should definitely contact the Redmonds.”

 

* * *

 

The office walls of McFarlane & Brunner were carefully neutral, decorated with tasteful art. Danny had seen this type of office way too often to be impressed. He was equally unimpressed by the receptionist. The woman eyed Steve a little too eager for his taste and without really thinking about it, he stepped closer to his partner, almost touching him. Steve who had looked through the glass doors leading to the main offices turned to him and smiled.

 

Danny could read affection in this smile but also excitement. Finally something like a motive had popped up. It looked as if McFarlane, their victim in the secret passage, had embezzled 5 million Dollar from his company. If his partner knew about it, it was a pretty good motive.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a man in his 30ies, who introduced himself as Anthony Brunner. They were led in his office which was kept in the same tasteful understated tone as the rest of the company.

 

“So, what can I do for 5-0?” Brunner asked after they had settled in the visitor chairs, a cup of coffee in front of them.

 

“We are here about your partner, Joseph McFarlane.” Steve explained.

 

“Oh, Joseph is not in the office. He must have an external meeting. I can have his secretary check,” Brunner offered.

 

“We know where Mr. McFarlane is.” Steve hesitated for a moment before he continued. “I’m sorry that I’ve to tell you this, but he was murdered at some point last night or this morning.”

 

“Murdered,” stammered Brunner and paled. Either he was a really good actor or he was indeed innocent.

 

“Unfortunately yes.” Steve confirmed. They both watched Brunner taking a few calming breaths.

 

Finally he asked. “Do you know who did this?”

 

“That’s what we are trying to find out. What can you tell us about your partner?”

 

With shaky fingers Brunner took his cup of coffee and took a sip before he answered.

 

“Not much, I’m afraid. We’ve been partners for more than ten years, but Joseph usually kept to himself. As far as I gathered throughout the years, he came to Hawaii to start a new life; he had lost his family before. A nasty divorce, I think. I tried to invite him to meet my family and friends, so that he wouldn’t be too lonely, but he always declined. After a while I gave up. In the end we only shared a business lunch once a month to speak about our clients and what to do with the company.”

 

“So you don’t know if he had any enemies?” Danny asked.

 

“No, no one that I would know of. As I said, he kept mostly to himself, never shared anything.”

 

“How was he as businessman? You are an investment company. Was he a risk taker or more on the conservative sides? Any unhappy clients?” Steve questioned.

 

“He was more of a risk taker, sometimes too much for my taste, but it usually paid off,” Brunner admitted.

 

“What about the 5 million Dollar missing from your accounts? Was that him taking a risk or something else?”

 

Again, shock was clearly written over Brunner’s face. But Danny wasn’t sure if it was shock over the missing money or that they knew about it.

 

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Brunner stammered. A lie, Danny thought, interesting.

 

“Really?” Danny could hear in Steve’s voice that he had heard it, too.

 

“Yes, really.”

 

For a long moment Steve stared at the man in front of him who began fidgeting.

 

“Okay, but maybe you can tell us where you were last night or this morning?” Steve finally asked.

 

“At home.”

 

“Any witnesses?”

 

“No.”

 

“Not even your wife?”

 

“My wife left me two months ago,” came the angry retort.

 

“Not having the best year, haven’t you,” Danny commented. “What about the night of the 23th June?”

“What about that?”

 

“I wanted to know what you did that night.”

 

“I have no idea. Probably spent it at home. Why are you asking?”

 

“Just doing our job.” It probably should have sounded calming, but was having the opposite effect.

 

“You think I killed him! Why would I do that?”

 

“He stole 5 million Dollar from your company. And you have no alibi,” Danny pointed out the obvious.

“I want a lawyer.” Of course, he wanted one.

 

* * *

 

„So Chin, what have you got?“ Steve asked in a way of greeting when they returned to the office.

 

“Some good news, some not so good news.”

 

“Hit me.”

 

“Brunner’s alibis might check out, at least for one of the murders. A neighbor remembers seeing him on the day of Straker’s murder.” Chin handed them a file.

 

“How can she be sure?”

 

“Kids in the neighborhood had started a fire, and she remembers seeing him when the fire truck arrived. Reports from the Honolulu Fire Department puts the time of the fire as exactly the TOD.”

 

Steve carefully scanned the file in his hand.

 

“Okay, what’s the good news?”

 

He gave the file back to Chin.

 

“McFarlane and Brunner had one of their business lunches the day before McFarlane’s murder. According to the service staff they had an ugly argument. The manager was afraid it would turn violent,” Kono took over.

 

“So, he might have killed McFarlane but not all the others?”

 

“I would suggest a copycat, but we never mentioned the Sherlock Holmes theory and we also didn’t release any details to the media.” Chin offered.

 

“It fits the pattern too well.” Steve sighed and rubbed his neck.

 

“So, let’s recap. What do we know right now?”

 

“We have four victims, two tourists, one local and one semi-local. Their names are all names of characters in Sherlock Holmes novels, either of the bad guy, the client or the victims. The killer arranges the murders according to the stories. So the names are important, but how does he find them? This can’t be coincidence.” Danny recaptured.

 

“The killer must be local or at least stayed long enough to know his way around the island. The waterfall, the parking deck, even the house.” This came from Kono.

 

“I mean, I can see how the killer found McFarlane. He could have simply looked him up in the phonebook. But the other three?” Danny gestured at the pictures of their victims on the wall.

 

“So far they have nothing in common,” Chin answered. “Different hotels, different airlines, different activities.”

 

“We have to find the thing they have in common.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

_It was good that he had experience in dressing women; otherwise the whole affair would have been even more difficult than it was. Usually when he changed a woman’s clothes she was cooperative, but dead women apparently not so. Finally he managed to get her out of her shirt and pants. For a moment he thought of also removing her underwear, but then he decided to leave it. Reinterpretation of art always left some margin to play and he would claim artistic license if someone protested. Not that anybody would. Getting her in the nightgown was easier, until she was finally the way he had imagined her. He draped her carefully next to her husband, the white nightgown a stark contrast to his dark suit, just how he had fantasized about it. He had long thought about, whether to use the props or not, but in the end he had to say the result was worth it._

_He took the package with chalk out of his pocket and placed his note on the floor. He didn’t really need it, but this was too important to get it wrong after all the work he had done, after all the risks he had taken. Carefully he started outlining the figures, feeling almost dizzy when he had finished the last drawing. He resisted the temptation to take a photograph with his cell – he had already taken enough risks – but he hoped it would end up in the newspapers so that he would have a reminder._

_Only one thing to do._

_He took the weapon and shot at the lifeless pair in front of them. Without any interest he watched for a short moment as the blood seeped through the thin material of her nightgown. It took longer until his shirt turned red._

_Everything was done exactly as he wanted. A good day._

 

* * *

 

Danny eyed the scene in front of him. Two bodies with gunshot wounds to the chest lying next to the open window. Next to them some stick figures were drawn on the floor with chalk. They almost looked like the drawings of a child, but even he could recognize the careful lines.

 

“What do the figures mean?,” he asked Max who was examining the male victim.

 

Max glanced at the drawings. “I can’t say what they mean regarding this murder, but in the original stories they were some kind of secret code invented by criminals to exchange messages in plain sight.”

 

“So we’ve got a message from the murderer. So nice of him to finally get in contact,” Danny muttered darkly.

 

“It’s not the only thing that’s changed,” Chin stated as he approached them. “This is the first time we have two victims and the first time he used a gun. Usually his victims were hit on the head.”

 

“But we still think it’s the same guy?”

 

“Yes,” Max declared. “Both victims have head wounds. I think they were just shot to resemble the original story.”

 

“I’m so happy that this guy has artistic integrity.” Danny turned to Chin. “What else you’ve got?”

 

“Those are John and Elsie Cubitt, both originally from Atlanta, on vacation in Hawaii and,” he hold up a key, “staying at the Grand Old Hotel.”

 

Danny stared at Chin for a second. “Finally something.”

 

“What do you mean ‘finally something’?” Steve came into the room after having explored the grounds for some traces.

 

“They were staying at the Grand Old Hotel,” Danny explained and waited for Steve’s realization.

 

“So, we’ve finally got a connection between at least two murders.”

 

“Yes, looks like it.”

 

* * *

 

The Grand Old Hotel reminded Danny of the hotels he had seen in England, the few times Rachel could actually convince him to fly to Europe. It really lived up to the Grand in the name. As far as he could see most of the interior was antique, with some modern adaptions that blended right in. Apparently they had hired a really expensive decorator or somebody had a very good eye.

 

They were lead to the manager of the hotel, Elise Riker, and Danny really liked what he saw on the short trip to her office. Maybe he should advise his parents to stay here the next time they would visit. At least if it didn’t turn out that their hostess would be a serial killer.

 

"Commander MacGarrett, Mr. Williams, welcome to the Grand Old Hotel, unfortunately under those circumstances. I've heard so much about your task force and I always wanted to meet you."

 

"Hello, Ms. Riker, you have a beautiful hotel here. I'm sorry that it took three murder victims for me to finally visit it." Steve obviously tried to charm her to get all the information they needed.

 

"Three?” For a moment Ms. Riker looked confused, but then her expression cleared “Oh, you mean Joseph McFarlane."

 

"Joseph McFarlane?" Steve questioned.

 

"You weren't talking about him," Elise Riker realized.

 

"No,” Steve confirmed, “I was referring to Jane Moriarty who was on her way to an appointment with your brother. Didn't he mention it? My colleagues were here to question him."

 

She frowned. "No, he didn't say anything. That's odd. And the poor girl was also murdered?"

 

"Unfortunately yes. But right now I'd like to know about your relationship with Mr. McFarlane."

 

She seemed surprised by his request, but nevertheless started explaining. "Well, relationship might be a bit strong. Some years ago we had placed some investments with his company, but the family later decided to place our money in more secure options and we ended the contract. It was nothing personal, just a change in our investment strategy. There was no argument, it was a business decision and Joseph accepted it as such. He and his partner still came over for business lunches from time to time."

 

"Why did you choose his company in the first place?" Danny asked.

 

She looked thoughtful. "I don't really remember, my father was still alive and made the decision. I think it was suggested to him."

 

"By whom?"

 

She shook her head. "I really don't know. I wish I could help you."

 

"That’s okay,” Steve smiled encouragingly at her, “then maybe we could talk about the Cubitts. Did you know them? Were they regular customers?"

 

"Well, I knew them, but they weren't regulars. They stayed with us for the first time. And if it hadn't been for our lottery they probably would have never come to Hawaii in the first place." She sighed. "And they probably would still be alive."

 

“It’s not your fault,” Steve reassured her. But something had grabbed Danny’s attention. "I'm sorry, did you say ‘your lottery’?"

 

"Yes, our lottery. Every time the whole family comes together we have a little lottery. We draw a name and this family gets an all-expenses paid trip to Hawaii."

 

“That’s interesting. Could you tell us a little bit more about it?”

 

* * *

 

They were back in the car and Danny felt the usual sparkle under his skin that showed him that they had finally a solid lead and this case would soon be closed. Usually he and Steve used their car rides to brain storm, but since that night, when Danny had driven away, there was a strange tension in the atmosphere. Suddenly the silences were awkward, as were their talks. Danny didn't know what to do to change it. He was pretty sure every therapist he ever saw would recommend actually talking about the night they spent together, but the problem was, Danny wasn't so sure anymore if he still knew what he wanted from such a talk. Yes, he didn't want to lose Steve's friendship, but he also couldn't shake off the nagging questions. What if they could work as a couple? Immediately followed by 'What if they didn't?'

 

His thoughts were all over the place and he almost desperately wanted the case to be over, to have time and maybe some distance to finally think.

 

That's why he immediately called the office.

 

"Kono, I've sent you all duty rosters of the staff at the Grand Old Hotel. Also I'd like you to check the alibis of every family member of the Riker family."

 

"Sure, boss. Any particular reason?"

 

"The hotel has a semisecret lottery and the winner gets a fully paid vacation at the hotel. The current winners are now with Max," Danny summarized their discussion with the hotel manager.

 

"Ouch, talk about bad luck."

 

"Try also to contact the family and friends of the Cubitts. See if they know about any relationship to the Rikers. The hotel manager said they usually choose out of a pool of business partners or people they want to impress," Steve added.

 

"You think the lottery was manipulated?"

 

"Let’s just say, I don't like those coincidences,” Steve explained. “The Grand Old Hotel is the only connection we have found between some of the victims – by the way McFarlane was their former investment banker – and the Cubitts win the vacation when a murderer is on the loose who picks his victims because of their names?"

 

"Gotcha, I will call the wife's sister. I wanted to check on her anyway."

 

"Thank you."

 

* * *

 

"Boss, your hunch was right,” Kono barely allowed them through the door when she gave them the update. “The Cubitts had never heard of the family, they couldn't believe it. Only after they talked several times with a lawyer and checked upon the tickets, they were finally convinced."

 

"So we have now at least a pool of suspects. How far are you with the duty rosters?"

 

"I've already eliminated everybody who was working on murder days,” Kono reported. “And I wait back on some information from the mainland regarding the family."

 

Danny flipped through the data on their screen.

 

"Good work, Kono. I will see how far Jerry is with his research."

 

Steve left the office. When Kono cleared her throat Danny realized that he had stared at Steve's retreating back.

 

"Do you want to talk about it?"

 

Kono’s question startled Danny.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

She just gave him an unimpressed look.

 

“What happened between you and Steve?”

 

Danny sighed. Usually he was a big fan of Kono’s instincts, but right now he could have done without them.

 

“Nothing happened,” and he didn’t need her dubious look to know that his answer hadn’t been particularly convincing.

 

He sighed again. “I’m not ready to talk about it,” he offered.

 

An understanding smile appeared. “Whenever you need someone to talk …”

 

“I know, but I think this is something I need to solve on my own.”

 

“Maybe not.” Danny really hated it when she was being cryptic.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, Steve is similarly affected, so maybe you could work it out together.”

 

Danny looked to the place where just moments ago Steve had still stood, wondering about that. He had always assumed he was the only one affected, but what if they both have had second thoughts. Great, another what-if-scenario. He realized he was sighing again, but before he could mentally scold himself for that, Kono’s laughter made him turn back to her.

 

 “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.”

 

With a light jab against his arm she turned back to her work. Danny rubbed over the spot, trying to make sense of her words but then shrugged and walked into his own office.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Danny didn’t care how unhealthy masaladas were, when you were contemplating your relationship with your partner any sugar was needed to help. If the partner was someone like Steve even more so. Especially if Steve licked the last traces of sugar from his lips, and Danny just wanted to follow the trace of that tongue with his own. He was absolutely relieved when Jerry entered the office walking straight to the data table. Everyone followed him.

 

“What have you got, Jerry?”

 

“Several interesting things. As you asked I looked into the history of Redmond house. Looks as if the first Redmond to live here was a certain Isabella Redmond who brought the house into the marriage. According to the gossip columns it was a present of a former lover, some speculation even existed that the affair never ended. Of course the name of this mysterious lover was never mentioned.”

 

“That’s very interesting, but do you have something more? 200 year old gossip is not that interesting,” Danny complained.

 

“That’s not all. When the Redmonds sold their house they gave the paperwork involved with the house to the museum, but asked that those things wouldn’t be on display until 25 years after the last of the current living Redmonds dies.”

 

“Again not helpful.”

 

“Don’t be so impatient,” Kono scolded him.

 

“A friend of mine who works for the museum allowed me access to the material,” with a flick Jerry opened a plan on the screen, “this is the final version of the plans. As you can see, no secret passages.”

 

“That’s the official plan of the Redmond house. It hangs in its entryway.” Chin stated.

 

“I know,” Jerry enlarged a piece of the plan, “it’s also version 7 of the plan. And before you ask, the Redmonds also gave earlier versions of the plan to the museum.” He opened another file. “Here is the first edition, and here,” he circled one part of the plan, “is our secret passage.”

 

“How does this help?”

 

“The plan has also the original signature of the architect and more importantly his employer.” He enlarged another piece of the plan. “And we are in luck. About the same time as Redmond house the Grand Old Hotel was built. And those plans are also in the storage of the museum. Look at the employer’s signature on those plans.”

 

Jerry put the relevant parts of both plans next to each other.

 

“They look the same.” Kono said what everybody saw.

 

“They do,” Jerry put the signatures over each other. It was obvious that it was the same.

 

“So the Riker family built Redmond house,” Danny summarized.

 

“And since there is a note on the original plans that two copies were handed out,” Jerry showed them another piece of the plan, “I believe that the Riker family still has their version.”

 

“So we have another puzzle piece pointing to the Grand Old Hotel and the Riker family or one of their employees,” Steve summarized.

 

“I’d go with the Riker family, especially Christian Riker.” This was Chin.

 

“Why?” Kono asked. With an apologetically shrug Chin opened a new round of files.

 

“When I looked into his alibis, he was one of two family members who were on the island for all of the murders. I also found connections to our other two victims.” Chin enlarged one of the photographs. “Drebber was a customer of his in LA and his colleague told me that he basically told everybody about his upcoming trip to Hawaii and later bragged that he got tips from C. Riker.”

 

“And the other one?”

 

“A bit trickier, but Straker and Riker were on the same flight six months ago. According to the airline they were sitting next to each other.” Chin opened a video file. “And surveillance from the airport showed them talking very animatedly afterwards.”

 

“Damn!” Everybody looked at Kono. “Do you know how hard it is to find a good hair dresser on this island?” She sighed dramatically and then explained very matter of fact. “He has black marble in his salon.” She looked at them. “Remember there was black marble in the head wound of the first victim.”

 

Chin continued. “I also checked the clothes of the last victims. They were both wearing not their own clothes. The murderer must have changed them. What he didn’t realize was that this is a very particular brand which has only shops in California. They don’t have an online store and the Cubitts have never been there. But one of the stores is in LA, near Riker’s salon.

 

“What do you say, is it time for another visit to Mr. Riker?” Steve asked.

 

* * *

 

Riker’s house was surprisingly low-key. A bungalow, about as large as Steve’s house, but obviously designed by someone who favored lots of glass and steel. The driveway was empty and after checking the windows, it seemed that the same could be said about the house. From his viewpoint Danny saw expensive looking designer furniture. It gave the house a cold impression.

 

They entered the house, a quick search for Riker showed that their suspect was indeed not at home. It also showed that most of the house was kept in the modern design, except one room. Chin had called them.

 

“I think we should start here.”

 

It was immediately clear why. The room was a complete contrast to the other rooms, no sign of modern design, instead old heavy looking cupboards, a large sofa and old-fashioned armchairs. But everything was dominated by a large portrait of Sherlock Holmes staring at them from the wall, as well as a handful of busts of the famous detective. A bookcase contained several editions of Arthur Conan Doyle’s books. When Danny stepped nearer he also saw a bound edition of the Strand magazine.

 

Chin and Steve had already started to search the desk and one of the sideboards, so Danny opened a cupboard next to him. Everything was neatly shelved and organized, but what caught his eye were several boxes. Five of them were labeled – with the names of their victims and the date of their death.

 

He took the last box out and opened it.

 

“I think we have our man,” said Danny to Steve and Chin and gestured at the box.

 

They came to him and looked at the box and then at the other boxes in the cupboard.

 

“Yeah, seems like it.”

 

Chin started examining the box’ contents.

 

“This looks like the clothes the Cubitts were wearing when they were last seen. And we have the revolver, caliber matches the bullets found.”

 

Steve had grabbed the next box.

 

“I really appreciate an organized murderer,” he commented as he took out the brochure of the Redmond house and showed it to Danny.

 

Their further exploration was interrupted by Steve’s phone.

 

“Jerry, what is it?”

 

When Steve hung up, he dragged Danny with him.

 

“Riker is on his way to the mainland, apparently there is a Sherlock Holmes congress starting tomorrow and Riker is on the guest list. Chin you finish here, we meet Grover and Kono at the airport.”

 

* * *

 

Danny closed the door behind the last of their strange ohana as they left Steve’s house. They had celebrated the end of the case with a barbecue, relieved that Riker’s arrest was almost textbook. Not wanting to risk a panic, Kono had approached Riker and put the cuffs on him. Riker was even cooperative during his questioning, explaining in length his admiration for Holmes. It had sounded quite insane to Danny, but maybe it was all just a ploy. But definitely not his problem to worry about.

 

He headed back in the kitchen starting to put everything in the dishwasher before he went back outside and helped Steve cleaning the rest from their barbecue. As usual Kamekona had left one of his shrimp dishes that wouldn’t taste near as good the next day. He showed them to Steve who just raised his eyebrows and Danny threw them away. Very soon everything looked as impeccable as before and Danny went to get them two beers.

 

It was the moment when he stood on the lanai staring at Steve who already sat in one of his deck chairs, when it hit him. He stared at the beer bottles in his hand, stared back at the house before he turned his gaze back to Steve. Apparently sensing that something was not right or simply being impatient for his beer, Steve turned around to look at him, a questioning look on his face.

 

Danny stared at him, so long that Steve stood up and came the few steps to him.

 

Danny felt the careful touch of Steve’s hands as he grabbed his shoulders. For a moment he stared helplessly in Steve’s eyes.

 

“I love you,” he blurted out.

 

The confusion was obvious on Steve’s face.

 

“I know.”

 

“No, you don’t understand,” and Danny heard the almost hysteric undertone in his voice. “I love you. You are my best friend and after Grace and Charlie the most important person in my life. And I know that you would die for them, and I hope you know how much this means to me, and I love you. I love you in the ‘I want to have a relationship and lots of sex’-way and I love you in the ‘you drive me crazy, I want to marry you’-way. I want this night to change something, I want to spend every night with you. I mean I already spent most of my awake time with you, so I love you.”

 

It was now Steve’s time to stare at him. Danny watched as confusion and hope and something else that he didn’t dare to name changed the face in front of him. He waited for Steve to say something, but the other man remained quiet. Just as was about to demand a reaction of Steve, anything really, Steve closed the distance between them and kissed him.

 

At first Danny didn’t react, his mouth still half-open to form a protest that now wouldn’t leave his lips, but then he surrendered, gave in to the sweetness that was Steve’s kiss. It was not the passion that he had dreamt about, that had left him burning under his skin. Instead it was sweet, just as sweet as those dreams of domesticity that had always left him with an aching heart. His mouth moved to the rhythm of Steve’s kiss and he felt the slight scratch of Steve’s five-o’clock-shadow, and it was perfect.

 

When they finally pulled apart, Danny stared in those eyes that never seemed to decide on a color and recognized something he had seen before, but not in this intensity.

 

“You love me,” he wondered. Steve smiled. “I love you.”

 

* * *

 

He woke up again by the sun shining in his eyes. They really needed to remember closing the shutters when they went to bed at night. He was certain he would remember it if Steve didn’t have his mouth on some sensitive part of his body that seemed directly connected to his brain. Or if he didn’t look so delicious that Danny couldn’t help but taste, and lick, and bite.

 

“Stop thinking,” a voice behind him grumbled and he felt Steve’s arm gliding around his waist, pulling him against him. “Go back to sleep.”

 

The lovely erection poking him from behind made sleep seem even more impossible.

 

“Can’t. You forgot to close the shutters.”

 

“I forgot them?” Steve asked, his breath washing over Danny’s neck followed by a small bite that was instantly soothed with a lick and kiss. Danny turned his head to give him better access.

 

“Your house, your shutters, your fault.”

 

It probably would have sound more convincing if his breath hadn’t caught as soon as Steve’s hand took his cock in his hand.

 

“I see,” Steve said, “let me make it up to you.”

 

And he turned Danny around, smiling at him before he closed the distance between them.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title and story inspired by the Song "1000 und eine Nacht" (thousand and one night) by Klaus Lage. The song tells the story of a couple that knows each other since childhood, but they've always been friends. Until one night they end up in bed and realize it was love all along.


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